An Alabaster Box eBook

“You mean Martha? I—­I’m
not sure. She was a servant in my uncle’s
home for years. She wanted to live with me, so
I sent for her. I never spoke to her about—­father.
She seems devoted to me. I have thought it would
be necessary to tell her—­before—­
He is coming in September. Everything will be
finished by then.”

His eyes were fixed blankly on the hedge; something—­a
horse’s ears, perhaps—­was bobbing
slowly up and down; a faint rattle of wheels came
to their ears.

“Don’t tell anyone, yet,” he urged,
and stepped down from the veranda, his unseeing gaze
still fixed upon the slow advance of those bobbing
ears.

“Someone is coming,” she said.

He glanced at her, marveling at the swift transition
in her face. A moment before she had been listless,
sad, disheartened by his apparent disapproval of her
plans. Now all at once the cloud had vanished;
she was once more cheerful, calm, even smiling.

She too had been looking and had at once recognized
the four persons seated in the shabby old carryall
which at that moment turned in at the gate.

“I am to have visitors,” she said tranquilly.

His eyes reluctantly followed hers. There were
four women in the approaching vehicle.

As on another occasion, the young man beat a swift
retreat.

Chapter XII

“I am sure I don’t know what you’ll
think of us gadding about in the morning so,”
began Mrs. Dix, as she caught sight of Lydia.

Mrs. Dix was sitting in the back seat of the carryall
with Mrs. Dodge. The two girls were in front.
Lydia noticed mechanically that both were freshly
gowned in white and that Fanny, who was driving, eyed
her with haughty reserve from under the brim of her
flower-laden hat. Ellen Dix had turned her head
to gaze after Jim Dodge’s retreating figure;
her eyes returned to Lydia with an expression of sulky
reluctance.

“I’m so glad to see you,” said Lydia.
“Won’t you come in?”

“I should like to,” said Mrs. Dodge.
“Jim has been telling us about the improvements,
all along.”

“It certainly does look nice,” chimed
in Mrs. Dix. “I wouldn’t have believed
it possible, in such a little time, too. Just
cramp that wheel a little more, Fanny.”

The two older women descended from the carryall and
began looking eagerly around.

“Just see how nice the grass looks,” said
Mrs. Dodge. “And the flowers! My!
I didn’t suppose Jim was that smart at fixing
things up.... Aren’t you going to get out,
girls?”

The two girls still sat on the high front seat of
the carryall; both were gazing at Lydia in her simple
morning frock. There were no flowers on Lydia’s
Panama hat; nothing but a plain black band; but it
had an air of style and elegance. Fanny was wishing
she had bought a plain hat without roses. Ellen
tossed her dark head: